These Happy Golden Years (Little House 8)

“I decided I didn’t want to stay away so long, and as you will speak to me, here is your Christmas gift.”

“Come, Charles, put the fiddle away,” said Ma. “Carrie and Grace, help me bring in the popcorn balls.”

Laura opened the small package that Almanzo gave her. The white paper unfolded; there was a white box inside. She lifted its lid. There in a nest of soft white cotton lay a gold bar pin. On its flat surface was etched a little house, and before it along the bar lay a tiny lake, and a spray of grasses and leaves.

“Oh, it is beautiful,” she breathed. “Thank you!”

“Can’t you thank a fellow better than that?” he asked, and then he put his arms around her while Laura kissed him and whispered, “I am glad you came back.”

Pa came from the kitchen bringing a hodful of coal and Ma followed. Carrie brought in the pan of popcorn balls and Grace gave everyone a bag of candy.

While they ate the sweets, Almanzo told of driving all day in the cold winds and camping on the open prairie with no house nor shelter near, as he and Royal drove south into Nebraska. He told of seeing the beautiful capital building at Omaha; of muddy roads when they turned east into Iowa, where the farmers were burning their corn for fuel because they could not sell it for as much as twenty-five cents a bushel. He told of seeing the Iowa state capital at Des Moines; of rivers in flood that they crossed in Iowa and Missouri, until when faced with the Missouri River they turned north again.

So with interesting talk the evening sped by until the old clock struck twelve.

“Merry Christmas!” Ma said, rising from her chair, and “Merry Christmas!” everyone answered.

Almanzo put on his overcoat, his cap and mittens, said good night, and went out into the storm. Faintly the sleigh bells rang as he passed the house on his way home.

“Did you hear them before?” Laura asked Pa.

“Yes, and nobody was ever asked to come in oftener than he was,” said Pa. “I suppose he couldn’t hear me in the storm.”

“Come, come, girls,” Ma said. “If you don’t get to sleep soon, Santa Claus will have no chance to fill the stockings.”

In the morning, there would be all the surprises from the stockings, and at noon there would be the special Christmas feast, with a big fat hen stuffed and roasted, brown and juicy, and Almanzo would be there, for Ma had asked him to Christmas dinner. The wind was blowing hard, but it had not the shriek and howl of a blizzard wind, so probably he would be able to come tomorrow.

“Oh, Laura!” Carrie said, as Laura blew out the lamp in the bedroom. “I

sn’t this the nicest Christmas! Do Christmases get better all the time?”

“Yes,” Laura said. “They do.”

Chapter 26

Teachers’ Examinations

Through a March snowstorm Laura rode to town with Pa in the bobsled, to take the teachers’ examinations. There was no school that day, so Carrie and Grace stayed at home.

Winter had been pleasant on the claim, but Laura was glad that spring was coming soon. Vaguely as she rode in the nest of blankets on the hay, she thought of the pleasant winter Sundays with the family and Almanzo in the cosy sitting room, and she looked forward to long drives again through the summer sunshine and wind; she wondered if Barnum would still be gentle after the long winter in a stable.

As they neared the schoolhouse, Pa asked if she were nervous about the examinations.

“Oh, no,” she answered through the frosty veil. “I am sure I can pass. I wish I were as sure of getting a school I will like.”

“You could have the Perry school again,” said Pa.

“I would rather have a larger one with more pay,” Laura explained.

“Well,” Pa said cheerfully as they stopped at the schoolhouse, “the first bridge is the examinations, and here we are! Time enough to cross the next bridge when we come to it.”

Laura was impatient with herself because she felt timid when she went into the room full of strangers. Nearly every desk was occupied, and the only person she knew was Florence Wilkins. When she touched Florence’s hand, she was startled; it was cold as ice, and Florence’s lips were pale from nervousness. Laura felt so sorry for her that she forgot her own timidity.

“I’m scared,” Florence said in a low, shaking voice. “All the others are old teachers, and the examination is going to be hard. I know I’ll never pass.”

“Pooh! I bet they’re scared, too!” Laura said. “Don’t worry; you’ll pass all right. Just don’t be frightened. You know you’ve always passed examinations.”

Then the bell rang, and Laura faced the lists of questions. Florence was right; they were hard. Working her way through them, Laura was tired when intermission came. By noon she felt her own heart failing; she began to fear she would not get a certificate, but she worked doggedly on until at last she was through. Her last paper was collected with the others, and Pa came to take her home.